


forever yours, forever mine

by myn_x



Series: BoKuroo Week 2k17 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bokuto Koutarou Being Bokuto Koutarou, But not really? idk, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Hanakotoba references, I just really love flower language ok, Just guys being committed dudes, Kuroo is dorky as hell too someone stop him, M/M, Marriage, Meaning he's soft and earnest and dorky as fuck, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 21:58:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10522722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myn_x/pseuds/myn_x
Summary: “Koutarou, if someone had asked me how love works six years ago, I'd have said chemistry. Dopamine, serotonin, adrenaline. All that stuff that's supposed to dictate when and how we fall in love, if we do at all. It's chemical fate hardwired into our genes.” The words fall from Kuroo’s lips sure and steady, his eyes locked on Bokuto’s, already shimmering gold.“But screw all that."





	

**Author's Note:**

> for Day 1 of [bokuroo week](https://bokurooweek.tumblr.com/post/158190168925/welcome-to-bokuroo-week-2017-april-1-april-7)! the prompt was "beginnings & endings"
> 
> big, fat thank you to [abby](ailarii.tumblr.com) and [lena](aoneshouyou.tumblr.com) for throwing 11/10 ideas and songs at me.
> 
> i cried so many times writing this -- i can't stand these dorks gosh
> 
> click [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/mynnxx/playlist/184gUFQEY26Rlk61VDbtgx) for the spotify playlist i made for their dance~
> 
> AND THERE IS ART, FRIENDS, AHHHHHHHH you can find it [here](http://ailarii.tumblr.com/post/159307367087/walks-into-bokuroo-week-late-with-starbucks-this), drawn by abby!!

It's supposed to be a small, quiet thing, the evening ceremony, at Daichi's warm-lit cabin by the sea. Candles flicker on nearly every available surface in the kitchen and living room, and garlands of forget-me-not and fairy lights frame the doorways and windows, the blue petals seeming to shimmer in the firelight.  

Kuroo peeks his head out of the bedroom, heart pounding in his chest. He hasn’t seen Bokuto since they were last lip-locked nearly eight hours prior. Bokuto had clung to him before being dragged away by a jaded Daichi, who’d waited mostly patiently for them to stop kissing like they weren’t going to see each other for more than a few hours.

Now only the hallway separates them, Kuroo in Daichi’s bedroom and Bokuto in one of the spare rooms.

Kuroo closes the door with a sigh, slumping slightly against it. He’s never felt this on-edge before. Never, not before a match or a test or a job interview, has he ever dealt with this insistent buzzing in his skull, or has he felt like he was floating above his own body like he does now.

“You’ll wrinkle your suit.”

Akaashi’s voice brings Kuroo back to earth like a dash of cold water to the face. He looks up, feeling faint and a little nauseated, to where Bokuto’s best-friend-turned-ceremony-overseer sits daintily on the edge of the bed, midnight black suit pressed to crispness. The barest hint of gold edges his lapels, and the only other splotch of color is his golden tie.   

“That’s the least of my worries, Akaashi,” Kuroo mumbles. He looks down at his own suit, dark as Akaashi’s, but his tie is crimson against the black vest underneath.

“I know you'll take care of him,” Akaashi says firmly. “I’ve known that for a while, actually, so it surprised me that it took you so long to pop the question.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just --” he splutters, but just then, there’s a knock at the door.

It’s happening.

Anticipation hums beneath Kuroo’s skin as Akaashi fits the silk blindfold over his eyes. It’s happening -- it’s finally happening -- and even though it’s more symbolic than anything, the suspense is real. No hesitation, for he wouldn’t back out to save his own life, but plenty of nerves.

Akaashi’s warm hands settle on his shoulders. “He’s got you, and you’ve got him, so there’s no need to be afraid. I wouldn’t trust him to anyone else, and the same applies for you to him.”

Kuroo only nods, throat tight with emotion, and Akaashi straightens his tie one last time, brushing some lint he can’t see from his shoulder.  

The door opens, and Akaashi turns him toward it. He hears a sharp wolf-whistle and then a teasing chuckle. Kuroo would punch the man in the doorway, if he weren’t so tense with anxiety (and if he also didn’t appreciate the whistle of approval -- he must look _good_ , but that made him even more nervous, really).

Then there’s Daichi’s warm voice. “I’ll take him from here, Akaashi. Ready, Kuroo?”

“Ready as ever,” Kuroo croaks. Akaashi brushes past him and Kuroo swears he can feel Akaashi’s worried eyes on him as he passes. Without any more butterfly-inducing words, Daichi pats him affectionately and takes his arm, leading him out of the room and into the hallway.

Kuroo and Bokuto are meant to leave the house and follow the short path to the cabana at the same time, but Kuroo hears no sign of the other, and wonders if he’s as tightly wound up as he is. They’d been together so long that the year they waited for this day should have felt like nothing more than a blip in the grand scheme of things, but it felt like an eternity that was now rushing to swallow Kuroo up.

There were more than just Daichi’s and his own footsteps, and then he felt a hand press against the small of his back, and it said, as Akaashi had told him only a moment ago, _I’ve got you_.

They’re drawn to each other like that, so it’s no surprise to Kuroo that Bokuto managed to find him even while he was temporarily blind. Neither said anything; once Bokuto’s hand reluctantly falls away from its place at Kuroo’s back, their guides lead them out the sliding door and into the night.

 

 

It’s cool outside, and Kuroo is glad that they’d chosen suits rather than keeping it casual.

Kuroo can’t see how the backyard’s been decorated, but he can hear the soft crash of foamy waves against the coast. The sound is reassuring -- the ocean’s heartbeat steadies his own -- and Kuroo’s jitters evaporate.

There’s no music as Bokuto and Kuroo are led by Washio and Daichi to the little niche in front of the cabana. Their guests are few -- just trusted friends from high school and volleyball and college who could make it. Neither invited their relatives; their shared found family is more than enough.

Washio and Daichi, their best men (of sorts), silently position them, and then Akaashi’s voice reaches their ears.

“You may remove each other’s blindfolds.”

The hum returns to Kuroo’s blood. Before he can reach out and search for Bokuto’s face, he feels shaky fingers searching up his neck and Kuroo reflexively presses his palm to Bokuto's hand, guiding it it to rest against his cheek.

Bokuto doesn’t slide the blindfold off his face. _He’s waiting_ , Kuroo realizes, and with his free hand he gropes Bokuto’s tie and then his chin and then his hand rests against the fabric shielding those golden eyes.

“One --” The hoarse whisper escapes Kuroo’s lips...

And Bokuto does not hesitate. “Two --”

“Three,” they say together, and then Kuroo is barely aware of the clapping and whooping and wolf-whistling as they ease off each other’s blindfolds. He blinks rapidly and his mouth parts, the radiant figure before him almost blinding amid the soft glow of the lanterns.

Bokuto’s suit is a rich ivory with gold accents, and it hugs his broad shoulders and back, accentuating the smooth lines of his physique. His vest is a subtly glittering gold, nearly identical to his eyes, which are drinking Kuroo up just as thirstily. The sight of Bokuto standing before him, all wrapped up in cream and gold, the top of his streaked undercut smoothed over, is enough to make Kuroo feel weak in the knees, and so so profoundly, cosmically _lucky_.

“Gosh,” he wheezes, just as Bokuto murmurs, “ _Fuck_ , Tetsu.”

Kuroo has a moment to take in the scenery that frames them -- wrapped around the cabana’s wooden pillars are more fairy lights and flowers, forget-me-not and honeysuckle -- before he nods to Akaashi, who stands before them. He hands Kuroo the scarlet sage, and Kuroo tucks the sprig of red flowers in Bokuto's suit pocket in a silent, willful proclamation, one he’s uttered into his lover’s skin so many times before.

Bokuto’s cheeks are as burning bright as the salvia petals in his pocket, and Kuroo can practically see him vibrating with excitement, the air around him seeming to quiver. Kuroo wants nothing more in that moment than to take that precious, lovely face in his hands and sink his lips to Bokuto’s and taste the promises there, in place of their prepared, equally sincere vows. They’d eschewed formality and rules and convention to begin with, so what was one more dismissal of tradition?

But, no, they’d waited this long, and a little more patience would make this _more_ worthwhile than they’d both imagined, whispered promises coming to life.

“We’ve come together this night, under the new moon, to celebrate the union of two of our own. It’s been a long time coming, Bokuto, Kuroo,” Akaashi said, nodding at them both in turn with a cheeky smile.

“Kuroo, if you would?”

This is about them, so there isn’t much for Akaashi to say. He’s just there, as he’d said jokingly, to get Bokuto off his hands completely, and into Kuroo’s.

Kuroo could hear the thump-thump of his heart in his ears, the fire in his blood spurring him on.

“Koutarou.”

At his name, Bokuto steps closer, and Kuroo takes the plunge.

“Koutarou, if someone had asked me how love works six years ago, I'd have said chemistry. Dopamine, serotonin, adrenaline. All that stuff that's supposed to dictate when and how we fall in love, if we do at all. It's chemical fate hardwired into our genes.” The words fall from Kuroo’s lips sure and steady, his eyes locked on Bokuto’s, already shimmering gold.    
  
“But screw all that. For me, it was how you'd pester me to help you with math when we were only college roommates and nothing more, with no idea of what we'd become. It was the nights we stayed up talking about nothing, and the mornings I woke up in my bed because you'd carried me and tucked me in,” Kuroo says, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a fond smile. “It was the pain I felt when we graduated, and the relief when you asked me to live with you again, in _our_ own apartment. It was the first time you kissed me and laughed against my lips, too nervous to do anything more than a few pecks. It was that one time you tried to gel my hair, and we found out it was possible for it to look more messy than usual.”

Bokuto lets out a choked laugh, the air between them heavy and full of memory, and Kuroo’s grin spreads wider, hands itching to touch the man in front of him. Kuroo has eyes for no one else, the air shrinking to enclose just the two of them, and his brows furrow in concentration; he wants to get these last words out, the most important ones he’ll ever say, and etch this moment into his soul.  
  
“It’s all the days we fight over who was going to take out the trash, and even when you steal my food right off my plate. Love is every one of your smiles since we met, and all the times you've made me laugh so hard I cried. It's every hug and argument and touch and whisper. You, with your infectious energy and rugged good looks,” he pauses to wink at Bokuto, who tearily laughs again, “you are perfect and everything to me, and the only one I need in this life, and whatever comes after. So you're stuck with me, dude, if you're still willing to have me.”  
  
“TETSUUUUU!” Bokuto howls, tears pooling in his eyes. “Yes, yes, _yes_! But what if my vows weren't as awesome as yours?! You'd have made me look terrible!”  
  
“Never. That's impossible.” Kuroo takes his hands, unable to wait for the right moment. “Now tell me. Tell me everything.”

Akaashi nods to someone behind Kuroo, and Kenma steps forward, their rings in his palm.

Bokuto flashes Kuroo a grin and then clears his throat. “Ok, more seriously...I’m not half as eloquent as you are, Tetsu, but this is my oath to you.”

He squeezes Kuroo’s hand, and Kuroo reciprocates Bokuto’s earlier gesture, telling him _I’ve got you_ with his eyes.

“I -- I swear to kiss you every chance I get, and spoon you and cuddle you and never complain about your icicle toes, and only steal your food _sometimes_ ” -- Kuroo outright laughs at that -- “and give you everything I have to offer, my heart, my soul, my life.”

Kuroo’s chest tightens -- Bokuto’s soft words are simple but carry a sincere, depthless emotion that only he knows how to express. The honeysuckle and forget-me-not petals rustle in the light, coastal breeze.

“We’ve had more ups than downs, but even if that changes I won’t regret any moment I’ve spent with you, or even think about letting you go. I want to grow old and _greyer_ \--” _he_ would _stick a pun in his vows_ , Kuroo thinks with a smirk, gosh _he’s always so_ adorable -- “with you. We could count our days together, but that’d be pointless ‘cause we’ve got an eternity. And I don’t think either of us could count that high anyway. So let’s not, okay?”

Kuroo feels so blissfully high on happiness that his only response is laughter, and tears. He doesn’t need to hear these things to _know_ , but the sweetness of these words that Bokuto’s chosen, that roll off his tongue like a love song, stirs up a euphoria in him unlike any feeling he’s ever experienced.

His words are every promise ever uttered and then more.

Finally, Kuroo manages to whisper, “ _Yes_ ,” before Kenma clears his throat and holds out his fist and opens it, twin platinum bands overlapping in the dip of his palm.

Two circles with no beginning or end, just like them. Kuroo takes the warm metal bands, and slips his ring to Bokuto, who’s also started crying. They’re so close. So, so close.  

Kenma returns to his front-row seat, his lower lip trembling almost imperceptibly, and Akaashi nods at Bokuto and Kuroo to proceed.

Sliding the band on Bokuto’s right ring finger, Kuroo says, “I, Kuroo Tetsurou, give you this ring, a symbol of my endless love for you.”

The ring reaches the hilt of Bokuto’s finger, and Kuroo raises his hand to kiss where the metal meets his skin.

“Silly, dorky cat,” Bokuto whispers, sliding the ring onto Kuroo’s left finger. “I, Bokuto Koutarou, give you this ring so the world can see that you’re mine, and mine only, for life. I love you, Tetsurou.”

“I love you too, Koutarou.”

“I love you more!”

“ _I_ love _you_ more.”

“No, I -- Akaashi, please tell me I can shut him up now, I need to ki--”

“Yes, yes go ahead -- you are now officially a couple, and you’re both so sickeningly sweet, so just spare us all and kiss already,” Akaashi says with a laugh. His eyes are shining, and he reaches a hand to each of their backs to gently nudge them together.

Kuroo wastes no time, cupping Bokuto’s face and crushing their lips together, just shy of chaste. He melts against Bokuto, whose palms slide up to grab his lapels and anchor Kuroo in place, and Kuroo unconsciously slides a leg between Bokuto’s, needing to get closer.

The sound of cheering and sniffling reaches them, and they break apart with heavy breaths between them. The couple turns to face their audience; Kenma is crying unabashedly, too lazy to care about the snot that’s started to drip from his nose, Washio and Daichi are clinging to each other, wiping at their eyes to hide the tears there, Yamamoto is wolf-whistling, and the rest are in varying states of happy-sobbing or raucous applause.

Bokuto turns to squeeze Akaashi, lifting him off the ground, mumbling his thanks into his chest.  
  
"Don't crush me, you brute,” Akaashi mutters, but he holds onto him just as tightly. “I’m so happy for you, Koutarou.”

It means everything and more to Bokuto that his best friend was here with him for the ceremony, had offered to be the stand-in officiant. “Thank you so much, Keiji, for everything.”

“Don’t mention it -- put me down now? I think your spouse will want to dance.” Akaashi pats Bokuto’s back, and Bokuto lowers him and kisses his cheek before bounding off to join Kuroo, who’d been talking to Kenma and Yamamoto.

Akaashi steps onto the cabana to turn on the mic for Washio and Daichi. They give their heartfelt toasts, and then some of their friends offer their blessings as well. Pictures are taken and dinner is served, and Kuroo relaxes into this new, yet familiar union of their souls, feeding Bokuto food off his own plate, both of them drinking from the same glass.

When Bokuto gets up and takes the mic, Kuroo’s stomach flips.

“I’d like to dedicate this next song to that hunk over there by the bar with the absolutely lawless bedhead,  the handsome love of my life, my rock, my only, my everything, my Tetsu~”

He winks at Kuroo, whose cheeks flare up, while their friends _awww_ and egg Bokuto on, wholly entertained by his antics.

“Anyway, babe, here’s Wonderwall.” Bokuto signals to Yaku, who was in charge of the music, and a song _not_ by Oasis starts playing.

Bokuto steps off the stage to return to Kuroo’s side. Kuroo recognizes the first piano notes immediately and freezes; tears pool in his eyes again as Bokuto takes his hand and kisses it, tugging him away from the free-standing bar manned by Konoha, to the little dance floor in front of the cabana.

Bokuto pulls him close and sways, nuzzling into Kuroo’s neck as they move back and forth, and then he softly sings along with the song, directly below Kuroo’s ear so that no one else can hear him. “ _Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with you_.”

He hums, and Kuroo lets him lead; he almost can’t take when Bokuto is this gentle, and affectionate -- it makes him forget to think. Bokuto’s fingers slide down to rest at Kuroo’s waist, and with his other hand he grips Kuroo’s, twining their fingers. Their rings touch, and Kuroo can feel both their pulses. “ _Take my hand, take my whole life too, for I can't help falling in love with you_.”

“I’m so happy, Kou,” Kuroo says, his voice hoarse with emotion. Bokuto pulls him closer, so that their bodies are but a hairsbreadth apart, and Kuroo’s heart speeds up. “You look so good.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Bokuto says sheepishly. “I should buy you more suits. Sometimes I forget how sexy you are in all black.”

“Or you could get me nothing, and see me in that.”

“Scandalous, Tetsu. There are people around.”

“I’ve arranged with Daichi to get everyone out by 10.”

“That’s so early...can’t wait to jump me?”

“Bingo,” Kuroo purrs. He rubs his hand in a circle over Bokuto’s back, just how he likes, and he knows it works when Bokuto tenses.

He pulls back to press their foreheads together, and in the warm glow of the lanterns and the weak light of the stars, Kuroo can see that his pupils are blown big and black against the gold of his irises. They dance like that for a few more songs, Bokuto’s blush spilling over his cheeks and down his neck where it’s swallowed up by the white of his suit.

Kuroo can’t help but check his watch every few moments, savoring the time they’ve set aside to celebrate with their loved ones, but nonetheless craving intimacy. He’s impatient, and when the time comes for Daichi to usher everyone out after final congratulations and hugs, Kuroo nearly groans with relief.

  
  


Kuroo carries Bokuto bridal style back into the cabin, his impatience melting into something more careful and unhurried. 

“After two weeks of waiting, I’m dying to take you apart, Koutarou,” Kuroo says, stepping sideways into the room where Bokuto had gotten ready. He kisses Bokuto’s forehead and sets him down near the bed.

“Yeah, when you’d suggested not doing _anything_ \-- not even jacking off -- until today I thought you’d finally lost your mind but,” he says as he traces his finger up Kuroo’s tie, untucking it from his vest to pull him closer, “but I can see why you made me agree.”

“I’m gonna make you take back all that whining.” Kuroo looks into Bokuto’s eyes with lowered lids, and he sees something snap in the gold, something wild and hungry.

They’re as reckless in undressing each other as they would have been careful and attentive had they helped each other dress for the ceremony. Jackets are shucked off, belts snapped from loops, pants and underwear pushed down just enough to satiate the hunger for the feel of skin on skin, teeth and lips clashing messily amid soft gasps and moans.

When Kuroo strokes his hand over Bokuto’s already hard cock, Bokuto laughs triumphantly.

“Someone’s eager,” he remarks, kissing over and around Kuroo’s lips, his tongue finally slipping between them to claim the other’s mouth.

"I'm just excited to fuck you as my symbolically wedded husband," Kuroo growls as he pulls back slightly, his teeth grazing Bokuto’s cheek.

“God, Tetsu, I love when you talk dirty to me.” A wry smile chases Bokuto’s words as he reaches to cup Kuroo’s ass, grinding their hips together. “You never curse unless we’re in bed.”

“You just have that effect on me.”

The rest of their clothes are discarded, and Bokuto snatches their lube from the outer pocket of his overnight bag. He shudders when Kuroo presses a finger against his rim, Kuroo’s other hand gripping the dip in his waist to hold him still.

Kuroo is deliberate with the flicks and drags of his fingers, massaging and circling over every inch of Bokuto’s walls so that his toes curl and his back arches off the bed in ecstasy. Kuroo ignores his own arousal, the tight heat in his belly put aside so that he can focus on slowly fucking Bokuto open with his fingers.

“Tets', Tetsu, please,” Bokuto whines.

Kuroo bends to trails kisses up and down Bokuto’s trembling thigh. “What do you need, babe?”

“ _You_ ,” Bokuto breathes, clenching around Kuroo’s fingers. “Please, I need you to fuck me.”

Bracing his arms on either side of Bokuto’s face, with Bokuto’s legs over his shoulders, Kuroo buries his cock into that taut, slick, pulsing heat, sinking down until he’s fully sheathed and they both moan brokenly.

“ _Fuck_ , Kou, I missed this,” Kuroo gasps, and Bokuto drags Kuroo’s face down to lick into his mouth and nip his bottom lip, rolling it between his teeth.

They’d made love plenty of times before, but this time it was with a new carnal urgency, a need to carve themselves into each others flesh and _take_.

Kuroo rolls his hips, thrusting deeper, their skin sticky everywhere they touch. Bokuto moans long and low into his mouth, and Kuroo begins to pull out, but not wanting to part with the snug warmth he’s ached for for half a month, he slams back into him. Bokuto’s voice breaks on his name over and over again between yeses and even more expletives.

Kuroo’s strokes are shallow and jerky as he slides his tongue over Bokuto’s lips, tracing his jaw and then his pulse, worrying the flesh at the crook of his neck before ducking to lave his tongue over Bokuto’s nipple, and then pulling away to drive his weight into Bokuto with every press of his hips.  

Raising his hips to deepen Kuroo’s thrusts, Bokuto writhes beneath him muttering nonsense into his shoulder. Kuroo pants into his ear, sliding his fingers between them to grasp and work Bokuto’s cock, his other hand tangling with Bokuto’s, their rings glancing off each other.   

It doesn’t take long for either of them to climax, Bokuto spilling and spilling over Kuroo’s hand and onto his own stomach, and Kuroo deep inside him with a rough jerk of his hips.

“I’m so in love with you,” Bokuto says once he catches his breath.

Kuroo collapses on top of Bokuto, smearing the mess between them. “I’m very much in love with you too.” He doesn’t pull out, nor does he want to, and Bokuto doesn’t seem to mind that his half-hard cock is still inside him.

Bokuto shifts his hips, revelling in the warm, slippery feel of cum leaking from his hole. “Again?” he murmurs into Kuroo’s sweaty hair. His own is disheveled, returned to its usual state of chaos, rivaling Kuroo’s on a particularly bad day.

“Yeah, give me like five minutes. You wanna fuck me?” Kuroo thanks whatever deity is in charge of things for both of their relatively quick refractory periods and ridiculous stamina.

“I thought you’d never ask!”

  
  


“Hey, Tetsu?” Bokuto rolls over, propping himself up on one arm, and Kuroo is very distracted by the curve of his bicep, so much so that it takes him a second to remember to respond.

“Uh...yeah?” His hand darts out to smooth over the muscle, and Bokuto smirks, tensing so that it crests to its highest point. Kuroo squeezes it appreciatively, then moves his hand to cradle Bokuto’s face.

Bokuto leans into the warmth of his hand. “Mmmmm. What were you so nervous about?”

“Oh. I, um, it’s lame.” Kuroo should have known he would ask, with Bokuto having sensed Kuroo’s anxiety from behind the blindfold, instinctively comforting him with his touch.

“Tell me? Please?”

Kuroo can’t, could never resist those eyes, not when they’re soft and glowing and trained on him this intently.

“My vows...were not originally as good, I guess, as they were.”

“What’dya mean?”

The words tumble from Kuroo’s mouth like water from a broken dam. “I was nervous because I had spent days on them and still felt like I hadn’t gotten them right. But then you took off my blindfold and I saw -- I mean, jeez, Kou, you looked like a fucking _god_ , and the words just came to me, everything I love about you is _you_ \--”

“My, my, Tetsu, what language,” Bokuto teases, laughing low and rumbly. “And you mean you improvised your vows to me?”

Kuroo flinches. “Well, I --”

“Because that’s fuckin’ _incredible_ , Tetsu, oh my god!” Bokuto sits up and looks down at him, his eyes sparkling in that way that they only do when he’s gazing at Kuroo. “I got so lucky when I snagged you.”

Bokuto has always been full of surprises. Kuroo smirks. “Yeah? Well I’ve got our entire lives to tell you those things over and over again, don’t I?”

“Damn right you do,” Bokuto says, ducking down to claim his mouth, covering every inch of Kuroo's body with his own.

  
  
  
Later, when they’re much older, there’s a pressed sprig of scarlet sage framed and hanging next to their post-wedding portrait, taken while one of Bokuto’s arms was roped around Kuroo’s shoulders, his other hand reaching for Kuroo’s plate as he planted a sloppy, smiley kiss on the other’s cheek. Behind them, hanging garlands of honeysuckle and forget-me-not bend with the breeze.  

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ohmykokuroo.tumblr.com) || [other tumblr](http://zeppellii.tumblr.com) || [twitter](https://twitter.com/lovedeluxxxe)


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